Adversity's Visage
by Firstwyvern
Summary: The true face of one's pains are always undecided. Be it in fate, facts or failure, nothing is predestined. The mercenary group Tiamat's closely-knit trio finds themselves caught in a web of deception and vengeance.  Furries inside - You've been forwarned


**I'm just here to clear things up.**

**If you haven't read the description, the characters within are furries. If you're going to comment about it, I will send floor ninjas to assasinate you during your next trip to the restroom.**

**...Formalities aside, this story is being written for a good friend of mine. We only know eachother over the internet, but she's pretty awesome. If this person just so happens to be reading this here, my other fanfiction is using her character's name simply because I'm bad at coming up with names. This specific fanfiction you're about to read is the only one that will ever involve self-insertion.**  
><strong>Even then, this will probably be far from an accurate representation of ourselves.<strong>

**For those of you who have wandered from my other fanfic and have ended up here, don't worry about the other one. I'm just getting this out so I can get my creativity flowing, really. If I'm slacking in updates or quality in either of these stories, never hesitate to remind me.**  
><strong>If you hate me for writing this, I guess I can't stop you.<strong>

**Thanks for reading through that. If you're still going to read on, let it be known that I'm always open to comments and critique.**

* * *

><p>-Prologue-<p>

Cold steel walls supporting an immense building lay before her, gigantic doors studded with bolts with an uneasy and fake sense of welcoming impeding her approach. Endless lines of people filtered in and out of the doors, going about their business in either hushed whispers or commanding heckles that thundered with practiced volume. Shutting her eyes for a brief moment, she recalled where she needed to go. While there was no rush, she knew that she hadn't the credits to live off of.

"The job had better pay well…" She thought to herself partly in regret to coming to such a heavily-populated area. The core worlds were an organized mess that she'd rather not be involved in.

The steel and concrete maze of the building did little to phase her direction as she walked slowly towards her destination. Carefully courting her wispy blue-tipped tail around the last corner, she noticed an unwittingly reduced number of people in the corridor. In contrast to the doors she had passed, the one she stood before was riddled with jewels and golden plating, signifying importance. Giving a nervous glance behind her, she pushed the doors and pressed onwards with a regrettable slag in her step. As she made her first step onto the red velvet flooring of the immense room, she saw in front of her a large table, and a chair with its back turned to her. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted with practiced accuracy.

"You need not introduce yourself Fae, I know what you're here for."

The voice weaved its way into her head, disarming her senses for a moment. It was surly yet assuring. It was the voice of a practiced conman, mixed with a gentleman. The man the voice had come from turned the chair around, revealing his identity. A weasel with a blank stare, small circular glasses sitting in delicate balance in front of his face now faced her, clearly not someone she was expecting as she accepted the seat herself in a brash manner. She wasn't going to show she was surprised. Surprise was weakness, and weak was not her. Mostly thrown off by his barely formal attire and plethora of medical accessories, she hadn't thought to see someone like this in the Emperor's conference room.  
>The weasel pulled a long sheet of paper from his bag, placing it slowly on the table. Sliding it towards her, he made eye contact. Common mercenary body language for an offer. Complacently pulling the contract towards her, it was most worrisome how fluent this man was in her affairs. As Fae grazed over the job, her eyes widened, staring at the text. "You can't… This isn't a hit list, this is an ab-…"<br>Once again cut off as he raised his hand, her ears perked with piqued interest towards what was about to be said.

"Oh Fae… As a mercenary with a record such as yours, I figured you would know better than to question your employer. You're nothing but a hired gun, and I'm the one who calls the shots." Now his voice was beginning to aggravate her. Fae's fur stood on end as she felt his words beginning to heckle her. He gave her an insincere smile, lancing a pen onto the table in front of her. "If you don't accept the job, then you're out of work. Work is money, money is survival. You can rest assured, dear, I surely know how difficult it is to sustain three mangy outlaws seeking redemption off core-world orbit."

Fae gritted her teeth, absorbing every word he said. Every one of them rang true, but she clenched her fists none the less. Nothing aggravated her more than someone who thinks they control her. Hastily grabbing the pen, she messily signed the paper, tossing the pen sideways at the end of the signature. Just as quickly as she signed, she had already tossed the chair aside, making her way for the door. The newly signed contact raised his brow, pleased that the transaction had been made.

"You'll get the job done, I assume?" He taunted her further. Almost as though he expected it, he gave a sly smirk as Fae halted. Her tail's tip began to dim, having calmed herself.

"I'll do the job… But you'll stay out of the rest of my life." Whipping her head back for a moment, she snarled, spitting her words out. "You _will_ stay out of it."  
>Fae flicked her tail angrily as she left the room with a bitter taste in her mouth. At least the job had no deadline...<p> 


End file.
